Page 72 of Resist
If I were to have a real life wedding night, this is how I’d want to spend it. Being fucked in the ass by a goddess.
She drives deeper, harder, stealing my breath with every slam against my g-spot, chipping away at my resolve and self-control with every piston of her hips.
“Touch yourself, Sterling.” She grunts as she picks up the pace, a relentless, syncopated rhythm as she rails me from behind. “Show me how much of a good boy you can be, and come all over these fancy sheets.”
My cock is painfully hard when I curl my clammy hand around the shaft.
“Such a well behaved boy, aren’t you, Kajirus? Taking orders so beautifully, submitting to me so beautifully, letting me use you and fuck this dirty little hole as I please.”
“Fuck.” It takes a couple more pump-and-thrust combos before I explode in fractured spurts of come and a string of profanity all over the bed. The heaviness in my balls and the tautness in my muscles are replaced with a bone-deep exhaustion that makes me fall face-first onto the bed with a sigh.
I stay there for a few minutes. I must fall asleep because a warmth between my cheeks makes me stir.
“Shhhh. Don’t move, it’s okay. I’m just cleaning you up.” Corabelle soothes me as she strokes my leg. Her voice is far away, but her hand sweeps up and down my limbs like she’s reassuring me of her presence. “Such a good boy, Sterling. You submit so well. Rest, you deserve it.”
I don’t know how much later it is when I stir and wake up. Corabelle is sitting with her back against the headboard of the bed, she’s got her knees up, laptop resting on top, and she’s glaring at the screen like it’s offending her.
I stretch my arms and legs, drawing her attention from her screen. She snaps the laptop shut, tucks it down the side of the bed, and smiles at me. “You’re awake.”
Nodding, I stifle a yawn. “And you’re not in your pretty dress anymore.” I’m sad I missed the chance to help her take it off.
She shakes her head. “It’s so heavy. I couldn’t hold it over my head to pee anymore.”
I prop myself up on my elbow. She’s taken her make-up off, her hair’s pulled into a messy mass on top of her head, and she’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with a bright pink flamingo on it.
“You like birds?” I point at her shirt and her cheeks turn the color of the bird on her chest.
“I like flamingos.”
“Just flamingos?”
She nods. “I don’t know why, I’ve just always resonated with them. I guess there’s something to be said for them being gangly and awkward birds, but also elegant and beautiful, and they’re pink. They don’t give a shit about blending in, those suckers just wanna be loud and proud in their difference.”
Her passion for the bird makes me wish I was a damn flamingo so she’d talk about me like that.
“I ordered some food while you were out.” Her face darkens again. I love that for such a boss bitch her cheeks and chest flush red so easily. I haven’t been around her enough with other people to know if it’s a me thing, or if it’s a Corabelle thing.
That swell in my stomach tells me I really want it to be the former.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked, or would feel like. So I ordered a few things.”
“That’s very thoughtful, thank you.”
There’s a pull inside me screaming we’re in very dangerous territory, and I should pull back. The edges between business and pleasure are more than starting to blur, and while I don’t hate it, don’t hateher, this is a bad idea. Maybe her stupid tenets weren’t a bad plan after all.
Rationally speaking, I can’t develop feelings for my fake wife. And yet, as she leaps out of bed and I catch a glimpse of her long, muscular legs on her way to answer the knock at the door, it seems my heart has other plans. And I’m just a passenger on this rollercoaster, with no idea where we’re going to end up.
CHAPTER 26
Cora
I’m notproud of the fact that I went straight back to the office on the morning after my wedding. Nor am I proud of myself for actively avoiding my new fake husband for the past three, no four days.
It’s Thursday.
We got married Sunday. Monday morning I squirreled away in my office only to be cornered by Michael demanding to know why my delightful new husband and I haven’t set off on our honeymoon.
I fobbed him off by telling him I’m getting some things in line at the office before webothtake some time off, and by giving him a nugget of truth, we haven’t decided on where we’re going to go yet, either.